Observed
by Maven Cree
Summary: Spock and Uhura find out that living on a Starship can be like living in a fishbowl. People are watching, and their intent isn't always kind. This story begins one week after the end of the film.
1. Chapter 1

**Observed**

**by Maven Cree**

**Part 1**

Lieutenant Uhura stood patiently in the corridor waiting for the turbo-lift to arrive. When the doors finally opened, she stood to the side and allowed two female science officers to exit.

"Lieutenant," one of them said, nodding in greeting. The other smiled slyly.

Uhura stepped into the lift beside Captain Kirk who was silently watching the exchange. As the doors closed, she saw the two women put their heads together and then erupt into giggles. Uhura rolled her eyes.

Once the doors had shut completely, she punched Kirk in the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?" he asked, rubbing that spot.

The communications officer hit the hold button and turned to her Captain.

"Because you're a part of it! You were there, so you're a part of it!"

"Still not following…"

"This is getting out of hand! Everywhere I go, people are giving me these goddamn smirks, or I'll walk into a room and the conversation suddenly changes… I get within _THREE FEET_ of Spock and everybody stops what they're doing to watch. They're not even _trying_ to hide it anymore!"

"Ah. So this is about you and Spock… um…"

She glared at him. He held up his hands in defence.

"Hey, I never said anything to anyone. Far as I'm concerned, whatever you two… do, on your own time is none of my business."

Uhura rubbed her temples. "I kissed him. I kissed him on the transporter pad because the two of you were beaming into hell and I was terrified that I'd never see him again."

Jim shrugged. "Kinda got the impression that that wasn't exactly your _first_ kiss."

"We're two consenting adults. Why does it matter?"

"Uhura," Jim paused to gather his thoughts. "Look at it from their point of view. Spock is Vulcan. Most humans never get to see a real Vulcan, let along get to know one. And given what's happened to their people, that's not going to improve anytime soon.

"When people think of Vulcans, what comes to mind? Pointy ears, logic, green blood and no emotions, right?"

"He _has_--"

"I _know_ that. Or rather, I know that _now_. I didn't always. The bridge had just watched me make Spock go ballistic on me – something I really hated doing by the way – You, I'm sure were angry at me, but everyone else… they were just in shock. I mean, who's ever heard of an _angry Vulcan_? And, what, two hours later, he's kissing you in front of everybody--"

"What _everybody_? It was you, Scotty and Ensign Preeva."

"Ya, Ensign Preeva qualifies as everybody. You have to watch what you say around him."

"…I'll kill him."

"I'd rather you didn't," he said seriously before flashing her his most disarming smile. "…Paperwork…"

Despite herself, Uhura smiled. She disengaged the hold button and the lift began to move again… only to be stopped a moment later by Jim himself.

"Since you brought it up, there is that… _other_ thing…"

She raised an eyebrow in an unconscious imitation of the ship's first officer.

"Other thing?"

"Well, you _were_ his student in our second year…"

"Yes. _Were_. As in _past tense_."

"So you two weren't… together… while he was your instructor?"

"People think that?!"

"Some."

"Does that seem like a particularly _logical_ think to do?"

"Not really."

"Of course not. We only started spending time together in third year. We kept bumping into each other at certain… common places of interest. I can't believe I actually have to explain this. I can't believe I'm explaining it to _you_ of all people!"

"It's the gold shirt. Endears people to trust me and bare their souls." He pressed the button.

"Oh is that what it is?"

"Of course. I'm very sensitive you know. I'm not even going to court martial you for assaulting your captain."

"I could make it _malicious_ assault."

The doors to the turbo lift opened.

"My stop!" Jim said quickly, stepping out. He turned in the doorway and smiled. "Seriously Uhura, people are just curious. They don't mean any harm by it… At least I hope they don't."

The Lieutenant sighed. "I know."

"But if anyone _does_ step over the line, you let me know."

"Will do, Captain. Wow. It really _must_ be the shirt."

"Gets 'em every time," he said, proudly as he allowed the doors to close, Uhura's laughter echoing in the small space.

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. I've been holding back on the fanfic for a few years, and working on my own writing projects. But I just loved this movie so much – it's officially my favourite now (And it's been a good 15 or so years since I've had a 'favourite' movie) – and I couldn't not write fanfiction about it. I've got 5 other stories (yes, all Uhura/Spock based) in various stages of development. One is a 'how they met' story taking place before the movie – that goes into those 'common places of interest' Uhura mentioned in Part One of this fic. It's actually a direct prequel to this story. Actually, all but 2 of my upcoming tales could be considered in the same cannon. Anyway, it feels great to be writing fanfic again – I love – LOVE getting reviews. Greatest feeling in the world (aside from watching Star Trek again – 4 times in theatre and counting…) I'm publishing this chapter… to be honest I don't know if it should be up now – seems a little choppy to me, but I'm going with it. Sometimes you just have to let your characters take you where they want you to go. For those of you familiar with my fanfiction, you'll remember that mine tend to walk a little closer to the dark side than usual. Hopefully I've reeled you in far enough with this chappy so that you'll have no choice but to go along with whatever ride I decide to take you on. Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!!!

And now, on with the show!

**Observed**

Part 2

by Maven Cree

Seated by himself in the mess hall, Commander Spock quietly ate his meal without actually focussing on it. Apparently, most of the humans on board the Enterprise seemed to think that the difference in his Vulcan ears was merely cosmetic. They had never stopped to consider that he might actually have a wider hearing range than any of them. What else would logically explain their verbal speculations of him whilst he was in such a close proximity? They spoke in hushed voices that would have been an effective deterrent for any human seated three tables away, but Spock… he could hear every word.

"Well I don't believe it."

"Keller shares quarters with Preeva and Preeva was there."

"He's a _Vulcan_. Vulcan's don't kiss in public. Hell I don't know that they kiss at all."

There was a snort of quiet laughter then a third voice joined the argument. "Ya, well, before that incident on the bridge, I didn't know a Vulcan could get pissed off. He kicked Captain Kirk's ass. Thoroughly."

"Kirk wasn't Captain when that happened."

"You know what I mean…"

Spock sighed. He would never understand the human need to indulge in idle gossip, but the reminder of his actions after Kirk's goading, remained a sour point with him. He recalled a brief conversation that took place between him and his new acting captain, several hours after the destruction of Nero and his ship. Jim had asked Spock to join him in the conference room.

"Spock, I while we have a minute, I just wanted to apologize," he'd said.

"Apologize?"

"For the things I… For what I said… You know… about you and your mother. I want you to know that I didn't mean it. _Any_ of it. It was killing me to say those things, but... I couldn't see any other way around it. You _do_ realize why I did it, don't you?"

"You wished to initiate Regulation 619, Captain, and were successful in doing so. Your results proved effective and indeed saved Earth from suffering the same fate as Vulcan. Therefore you were correct in your actions. There is no need to apologize."

"Oh, there's a need," he'd replied. "I'm not '_that guy_'. I may be something of a jerk sometimes, but even _I_ know what lines should never be crossed. Again, I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"I accept your apology Jim, and offer one of my own for the same situation," Spock had told him.

"I pushed you into that."

"You pushed. But reacting to it was my decision. I shall make every attempt not to repeat those actions in the future."

Kirk rubbed his neck, a dark bruise peaking out from under the collar. "Much appreciated, Commander," he said with a smile. "I knew you Vulcans were strong, but _damn_!"

They had not spoken of the incident since. He found himself surprised at how quickly an earnest comradely had developed between he and the Captain. Of course there were the words of his elder self to consider, but the speed at which his attitude towards Jim had changed was perplexing.

"So how long do you think it's been going on?" asked one of the voices, three tables back.

Spock felt a mild headache coming on.

"Mind if we join you, Commander?"

Spock looked up. Mr. Scott and Dr McCoy approached with their own meals in hand.

"Please," Spock said, indicating the seats closest to him. McCoy sat down across from Spock and Scottie sat between them at the table end.

"You know, I had the oddest ponderance this morning," Scottie mused. "If I could ever meet my older self, what would I ask him? What would I want to know? Or would I want to know anything at all…? How about you, Dr McCoy?"

The chief physician swallowed his bite of roast beef sandwich. "Don't know so much about my older self, but I'd sure as hell tell my younger self not to go on that ski weekend to Banff."

"Why's that?"

McCoy grimaced. "That's where I met the ex."

"Ah. Perfectly reasonable. What about you Mr. Spock?"

The Commander raised an eyebrow.

"Is this you inelegant way of trying to ascertain as to whether or not I have met Ambassador Spock?"

"Very inelegant, yes," Scottie said with a smile.

"I have, as I am aware that you have as well."

"Aye. But what was that like for you. I canna imagine!"

"Fascinating. He was not as I would have expected. I would have thought his demeanour would be somewhat more along the line of my father's. It was not. He appeared to be more…"

"…Content," Scottie said absently. "Er, No offence Commander."

"None taken. I will admit that the Ambassador appears to be more… comfortable with himself. Not unusual given his age. It should be expected that one has a greater understanding of one's self as the years go on."

"Quite the gentleman, he was. How old is he?"

"One hundred fifty-five point four years by human standards."

"We should all be so hale," McCoy said. "How old to Vulcans get anyway? Professional curiosity."

"The oldest known Vulcan on record lived to the age of 304.2. However the average age for a Vulcan male in good heath – given current medical practices – is 244.7 years of age."

"So he's still has a ways to go then."

"Unknown, Mr Scott. Although the majority of my physiology is Vulcan, I _am_ half human; the first known Human/Vulcan hybrid to survive past infancy. It would be illogical to ignore any possible impact that my Terran genes might have on my aging process."

"Always looking on the bright side, aren't you Spock?"

"I am merely stating a fact Doctor. I know it is sometimes _difficult_ for humans to speak in such a matter."

"If I didn't know better Spock, I'd say you sounded a little bitter just then."

"Fortunately you _do_ know better, Doctor."

McCoy looked past Spock. It was just the beginning of the lunch hour and the room was not yet fully populated. He could clearly see the crewmembers seated three tables away. It was obvious from their covert looks that his own table held their interest.

"Can you hear them?" McCoy asked, intrigue in his voice.

"Hear who?" Scottie asked.

"If you are referring to Ensign Talsman, Ensign Octel and Lieutenant David conversing on the likelihood of my using secret Vulcan telepathy on Lt Uhura, then yes, I can hear them."

"Oh, that!" Scottie said, waving his hand dismissively. "Pay them no mind, Commander. Gossip mongers, the lot."

"Indeed. A most curious human pastime."

"They're not… _bothering_ you are they, Spock?" McCoy teased.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "They are _bothering_ Lt Uhura. The term 'fishbowl' has come up more than once in conversation."

"Secrets breed speculation, Spock. People hear whispers and they want to know what's going on. They don't know what's going on, they start making stuff up."

"Aye, exactly. Once folks know for sure that you two are… involved, they'll start takin' ya for granted."

"This was intended to be a ship of professionals."

"This is a closed environment, Spock," McCoy countered.

"And I suppose the fact that it is none of their business, doesn't apply?"

"Exactly," both Scottie and McCoy said in unison.

Spock shook his head. "Most illogical."

**STstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstST****STstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstST**

"Lieutenant, I have this week's Summary Reports for subspace transmission."

"Ready for transmission, Commander," Uhura said. She turned her chair and accepted the first PADD from Spock, who was now standing next to her. She imputed the first coordinates and uploaded the information. She sighed, heavily.

"Is it just me, or did it just get quieter in here?"

"The general volume on the bridge just lowered by .35 decibels," Spock confirmed. He handed her a second PADD.

"This is ridiculous."

Spock lowered his voice. "Mr Scott and Dr McCoy seem to be under the impression that the scrutiny and speculation will cease once the crew has confirmation of their suspicions."

Uhura paused, her hand in the air, having just received the third PADD. She stared up at him incredulously. "I don't believe that entertaining the troops is in _either_ of our job descriptions, Commander."

Spock tilted his head in consideration. "You were a member of the Cadet Chorus," he pointed out.

The Lieutenant narrowed her eyes.

"A simple statement of fact, Lieutenant."

"I do believe _you're_ the one with the lyre sitting on the shelf in your quarters," she said quietly.

He handed her the final PADD. "We _were_ discussing public performances, were we not?" He retreated to his own chair before she could respond.

She recognized, as few would, that he was teasing her, and she was amused, but she still needed to fight the temptation to throw her earpiece at him.

**STstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstST****STstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstST**

Uhura stood with her back to the wall and looked around her quarters. She nodded to herself in satisfaction.

Her own quarters.

She hadn't expected to have her own quarters for several more years. She had fast-tracked herself through the academy – had finished her courses in three years not four. The next expected step was to be assigned to a starship – preferably the Enterprise, which had been scheduled for its maiden voyage around the same time of her intended graduation. She'd achieved the status of Lieutenant during her course line, and as such she'd expected to be assigned to a double room with a single roommate – thankfully, given her rank, she wouldn't have been crammed into one of the cramped four person crew quarters. That was what she had expected.

And then there was the distress call from Vulcan.

Once on the Enterprise, she had indeed be assigned a double occupancy. A room she'd seen only momentarily in order to change from her cadet uniform into her Starfleet uniform.

And then…

"_Uhura, relieve the Lieutenant."_

Field promotion. Not only a full Lieutenant, but a bridge officer. Head of ship's communications, not just another cog in the communications pool. She'd have preferred that the circumstances would have been different, of course. But for a split second, just after Pike's words, she'd allowed herself a moment of happiness in what was rapidly becoming an increasingly bad situation.

Upon their return to Earth, those cadets who had taken part in the battle of Vulcan were, if desired, fast tracked to the end of their course load. Graduation was a month afterwards, with consideration given to those who had been injured during the conflict. Three weeks after that she'd been informed that her field promotion stood and she was to report to the USS Enterprise upon completion of its repairs, to take her position as the vessel's head communications officer.

Her own quarters.

There were those of higher rank than her that still needed to share a room, but being a bridge officer had its benefits.

They'd been underway for a week and she had now finally finished setting the room to her satisfaction.

She'd been off duty for an hour now and it was still fairly early in the evening. As much as she enjoyed her new setting, Uhura felt like some company.

Five minutes later the Communications Officer walked into the general recreation room and looked around. There were various groups of crewmembers scattered about different areas. She saw young Chekhov standing on the edge of one loosely gathered group that was around a table and made her way in that direction. At the table, Spock and Kirk were engaged in a game of three-dimensional chess. She managed to maneuver herself up to the end of the table to watch the match.

Spock moved his Queen to Queen's level three.

"Check," he said.

Kirk rubbed his chin then moved made his counter move taking his King out of harms way. Two more moves were exchanged before Spock again said, "Check."

Jim smirked. "Perhaps," he said and moved his King's level Bishop on its own plane. "But I believe this, is called Check _Mate_."

The group applauded as Spock ran his eyes over the board. He nodded in concession. "Indeed. It appears that your non-logical strategy has its advantages. Well played."

"Knowing your opponent helps," Jim smiled.

"Spock, weren't you the Academy's Grand Master?" Dr McCoy asked.

"I was. That does not mean that I never lose."

A mischievous thought occurred to Uhura.

"Oh I don't know about that," she said. "After all there's winning and then there's _wining_… Jim may have won the match, but Spock gets the prize."

"Prize?" the Captain asked.

Uhura placed a hand on the base of Spock's neck then leaned over and kissed him. There were a few wolf whistles, some applause and Jim started complaining.

"Oh that's not fair. That is _so_ not fair."

She broke off the kiss gracing the Commander with a smile and a wink. He raised an amused eyebrow.

"Well, what do I get?" Kirk asked.

Spock crossed his arms. "The thrill of victory," he said plainly, causing an eruption of laughter from the assembled group.

"Yeah, keep laughing. Wait 'till you all see next week's duty schedule," Jim warned, but he too was smiling.

No one noticed a _very_ angry crewman storm out of the room.

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

Observed

Part 3

by Maven Cree

"Enter."

Uhura stepped through the door of Spock's quarters in time to see him setting his ka'athyra, his Vulcan lyre, back onto its place on its shelf. She snapped her fingers.

"Curses…" she smiled, "Missed him again." She smiled and took a seat on the arm of his small sofa.

Spock fastened a latch around the base to prevent it from falling in case of… whatever the ship might run into. The ka'athyra was made of wood and the localized stabilization field would only hold artificial materials in place.

She caught a ghost of a smirk on his face. "I am not responsible for your bad timing," he said quietly. She smiled, but let it go.

"I come on a mission of mercy."

The Commander focused his attention on the Lieutenant. "Mercy?"

"On behalf of your long suffering protégé."

Spock tilted his head.

"I do not _have_ a protégé."

"Of course you do," she smiled. "Young, brilliant, _inexplicably_ heavy Russian accent…"

"You are referring to Ensign Chekov."

"Of course."

"I do not understand how protégé applies."

"Spock, you're his idol."

"…I do not understand."

"Pavel has one of the highest IQ's ever registered for a human. His brain is a living computer. He's on the command track, but he has the knowledge and ability to fill in any science, medical or communications position on this ship. His intellect has often let him feeling socially isolated… at least before coming onboard the Enterprise… Sound like anyone else you know?"

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"You're probably the only person onboard that he can relate to. You're his example. He looks up to you. Emulates you. He's even started walking with his hands clasped behind his back."

"It _is_ beneficial to one's posture."

She rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, Pavel has been working on a little project in his spare time. I believe that it may prove beneficial to the ship and he would like your opinion on the matter."

She handed him a data PADD.

"If it is of such import, why has he not delivered it to me himself?"

She smiled. "Because as much as he admires you, he's also terrified of you."

"I have no sense of that."

"Oh, he's the model of professionalism on the bridge… for the most part… but has he ever said a single word to you while off duty?"

Spock's eyes moved off to the side and she knew he was checking his near perfect memory.

"Not to my recollection, however I do not recall any instance that would qualify as _terrorism_."

"Perhaps _unintentionally intimidate_ would be more accurate. He couldn't even bring himself to actually _ask_ me to pass that on. He was telling me about it and kept asking, "_I vonder vat Mr Spock vould have to say about this_?" I finally just asked him if he wanted me to show it to you. His eyes lit up like an Orion Moon Gem."

As she spoke, Spock was skimming the PADD. Though his facial expression barely changed, Uhura knew him well enough to see that he was impressed by what he'd read so far.

"When you speak to him," she continued, "remember to be kind."

He looked up. She shrugged.

"A figure of speech. I just meant that for all his being a senior bridge officer and a genius, he still a kid. And with humans, it's not always what you say, but how you say it."

Spock considered this for a moment.

"I shall… endeavour to be kind."

She smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

STstSTstSTstSTstSTSstSTstSTstST STstSTstSTstSTstSTSstSTstSTstST STstSTstSTstSTstSTSstSTstSTstST

"Ensign Chekov."

The seventeen-year-old jumped and stood to attention. "Sir."

"As you were Ensign," Spock said. After a slight hesitation, Chekov turned and continued down the corridor, his hands clasped formally behind his back. Spock fell into step beside him.

"Lt. Uhura has passed on the proposal you have developed."

"Vell, it is not really a proposal yet… not officially. Just something knocking around in my brain."

"I would suggest that you _make_ it official, Mr Chekov. I've found your research rather fascinating. Should you ideas come to fruition, they could not only be revolutionary to our own transporter capabilities, but could theoretically be expanded into other areas, such as security or communications."

Chekov remained silent. His steps slowed until he stopped walking completely. He turned to face Spock.

"These thought had occurred to me as vell, Commander Spock, but I vould rather focus my attentions solely on the transporters at this time. They are too slow to find their targets... too slow to lock the volume… The identifiers are too random… This is dangerous. It costs lives!"

Chekov's voice had risen enough at the end to catch the attention of other crewmembers in the vicinity. Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Follow me, Mr Chekov."

Spock led him off to a quiet corridor.

"Your last comment was unnecessarily emotional and not logically sound. Transporter technology has in fact saved many lives. The likelihood of someone being killed in a transportation incident is 1 in 2 469 547. Given the fervidity of your statement, it is logical to assume you have a motivation for this project other than scientific advancement."

The ensign seemed to find a spot on the floor quite engaging.

"Mr Chekov?"

"I think you must hate me, Mr. Spock."

Spock raised both eyebrows at this. "I assure you, that is far from the truth." Given their immediate conversation, Spock's mind was already formulating the likely answer when he then asked, "What is it that has led you to this assumption?"

Chekov continued to avoid the Vulcan's human looking eyes.

"It vas my… I should have locked the wolume sooner. It took too long. If it had been faster…"

Unperceivably, Spock slightly tensed.

"…You are referring to my mother's death."

"It vas my fault."

Spock resisted the urge to chew on his bottom lip; a habit he had picked up from the very woman they were now discussing.

"It appears, Mr Chekov, that you and I have yet one more thing in common: An illogical and misplaced guilt over the death of Amanda Grayson. I assure you, we are both in error on this point. You are no more responsible for my mother's death than I am."

Chekov's eyes widened. "But sir, how could you possibly think that _you_--"

"Your knowledge of transporter technology has been acknowledged as being second only to that of Mr Scott's, Ensign," Spock interrupted. He felt he had shared enough of his personal demons for the moment. "Have you gone over the transporter records?"

"Repeatedly."

"Was there any possible way for the transport of a being _not_ emitting a federation signature, to have happened any faster?"

"…No sir."

"Were you performing your duties to the best of your ability?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excluding information gained from your current numerous hours of research, was there anything you would have done differently if presented with the same situation?"

"…No, sir."

Spock tilted his head. "Then the only logical conclusion is that you ware not to blame, Mr Chekov. Indeed, I am grateful you were at the controls. A lesser skilled crewman may not have been able to retrieve any of us from the cliffside in that short window of time. My father was saved due to your actions that day."

Chekov had become extremely flushed.

"…Just… doing my duty, sir."

Spock nodded, and handed him back the PADD he'd been holding.

"I suggest you formalize your proposal and submit it to the Captain during our next senior staff meeting."

"Aye, sir," Chekov replied with a small smile. His demeanour appeared to be much lighter than before.

Kind indeed, Spock thought.

**A/N:** Okay folks, sorry for the wait. This wasn't originally Chapter 3. Chapter 3 was the dark chapter, but then I realized that I needed to convey some other information first. So that dark stuff got moved to Chapter 4. And then… Somehow… I deleted both of those chapters!!!! Thankfully, I have a habit of printing out chapters to edit, and I thankfully hadn't gotten to far in either chapter. Some things I lost, but it turns out that what developed works better anyway. (At least I hope it does – you'll have to tell me what you think.) So everything happens for a reason. (And just to spread my geekiness… I'd like to announce that at this point in time I have seen Star Trek 6 times in theatre – which is a record for me, and an unknown amount of times on my computer… I feel no guilt in this – I would pay to see it again if it were playing by me.)

Chapter 4 won't take as long… I promise.

Feed me by reviewing!!!!


End file.
